I can no longer keep this from you,
there are no other poets
there are no other poems,
you reading this
are merely my fantasy

I can imagine your breathing
becoming static as this point
your mind tells you I'm mad
while I am merely
having fun with you,
causing you to quickly
invent an elaborate identity for yourself
along with some fuzzy past
you would more easily discard
than claim as your own

enough little fantasy
my arm is tiring
you must go now.